I Bet My Life
by SinfullySimple
Summary: Phil was dead, and Natasha had the Avengers. No one needed him. So Clint left. But when he's away, old memories come up. Song Fic! "I Bet My Life" By Imagine Dragons. I own nothing. Please R and R. :D
1. Chapter 1

**_Hey guys! I'm back with another fic! :) This one focuses on Clint Barton right after Phil's death. I was listening to Imagine Dragons when I Bet My Life came on, and it just gave me a plot bunny I had to write! This will be a multi chapter story, and it will take us through the entire song. :D Enjoy!_**

 ** _*ATTENTION* I do NOT own Avenger's or anythings Marvel! All rights go to the real owners!_**

 ** _*ATTENTION* This song is Imagine Dragons! I do NOT own this either. No matter how much I want to._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _I know I took the path that you would never want for me_

~O~

Clint ran. That was all he could think to do. The one person he trusted the most was gone. Phil Coulson was dead, and he was never coming back. So Clint had decided that his time at S.H.I.E.L.D. was done. Everywhere he went reminded him of Coulson, of Nat, of the three of them in their battle against the world.

It had always been them; right from the beginning. It had taken almost a year for Coulson to earn his trust, and for Clint to let him in. In all that time, Clint had been hostile, mean, and silent. Then on a mission in Cairo, which had ended with Clint getting captured, Coulson had come back for him.

He wasn't supposed to. It was protocol. If an agent got captured, and there was no way out without losing more lives than protocol thought ok, the agent was to be disowned and left behind without another thought. But Coulson hadn't done that.

He had come back for Clint single handedly. Going through the compound, and almost getting himself killed. All for Clint.

That was when Clint realized that he wasn't bluffing about never leaving him behind. That he wasn't bluffing when he said that he would never abandon him. That he wasn't bluffing that he could actually find a _real_ home at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Then Natasha had come into their little team, and although it had taken some adjustments, they got used to her, and it became all three of them against the world. A little band of misfits and crazies against everything that was bad in the world. Clint and Phil worked together for almost six years, and the three of them worked together for almost four.

Then Phil died because of Clint. He had let Loki onto the helicarrier, and it caused him one of the only people in the world that he trusted. That he treated like family.

He knew Phil wouldn't want him to do this. Wouldn't want him to run away from his problems. From S.H.I.E.L.D.. From his _home_. But his mind couldn't think of any other solution.

So that's what he did.

He distance himself from everyone, and reverted back to his old ways. He became harsh and closed in on himself. He spent a week making a letter for Natasha, and then left in the middle of the night without a trace. Left all the Avengers to figure out just how exactly he had snuck out and disappeared. He wanted to stay. But he couldn't.

 _I'm sorry Phil._ He thought. _But I just can't do it._

~O~

 _I know I let you down, didn't I?_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hey guys! I'm back again with the second chapter of this little song series of Clint. But... This time I'm not alone. My friend Melody May Carter (Who isn't on here, sorry) Helped me out with this one, and will most likely be helping me out for the rest of the chapters! But, you will always know when she has helped because she deserves her share of the credit! :) Hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to leave a commit!_**

 ** _*ATTENTION* I do NOT own anything Marvel. I only own the plot line._**

 ** _*ATTENTION* This is UN-BETAED all mistakes are mine!_**

* * *

 _So many sleepless nights where you were waiting up on me_

~O~

Clint woke up shaking with beads of sweat rolling down his face and body. His scream woke up everyone, but they shook it off like they always did. Coulson on the other hand did not shake off the fact that Clint screamed. He like any good father would ran into the room to check up on his scared child. Coulson sat down onto the bed next to the crying twenty-year old.

"Clint?" Coulson coed as he took the boy's hand into his own trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. Coulson was probably the only one who could to talk to the boy.

"Their back and won't leave!" Clint bawled into the bed sheets on his bed as he couldn't stop the tears that fell out of his eyes that was an overflowing lake.

"Who is back?" Coulson asked as he grabbed a tissue as he offer it to Clint who gladly took it from his hand.

Clint explained to Coulson that he a nightmare about the time he was captured, and what he saw there. What those people did was ruthless and cruel. Those images forever a scar in his head that wouldn't leave ever even if he tried to get rid of them they would always come back.

"Clint they're gone! You're safe with us forever here at S.H.I.E.L.D. where we will always have your back." Coulson handed him the one hundredth tissue making the small blue floral box empty.

Clint told Coulson he was fine as the tears stopped falling, and he slowly felt better. Clint stood up out of his bed so he now looked out the window towards the city. He could help others even if it meant dying. In order to do so he could no longer be a slave to all of this. He needed to have a free mind so he could help others like how Coulson helped him.

Clint woke up in the hotel room. That night had been the first time he had cried since before he had gone to the carnival. Phil had been there for him when he had needed it the most. The mission that he had dreamed of that night was one of the worst in his career.

They had sent him to Pairs to infiltrate an underground facility that had a group growing in it that was similar to Hydra back in the 40's. When Clint had got there, as soon as he went into the building his comms had jammed and he had been ambushed. All of which he would have been fine with if it wasn't for what they did after.

See, he was trained to withstand torture; as well as he had built up an immunity to scare tactics. So, when they brought him into an interrogation room, he was ready. Ready for the torture and the pain. But they hadn't tortured him.

Three children under the age of fifteen died that night. All because he wouldn't- couldn't- give up the information that they wanted. Some of it he didn't even know. When Coulson had finally gotten a team in there, Clint was so shut off that it had taken two weeks for Clint to open back up to him again.

But Coulson had been there for him. The whole way, and never once judged him for crying or anything. Was just there. And Clint hadn't known how to thank him.

But now he was gone.

Clint ended up crying that night again. He cried for his lost friend and for the friends he had left behind.

He did not sleep again that night.

~O~

 _Well I'm just a slave unto the night_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hey guys! Here we are with another instalment in this little series. I hope you like it, and sorry it took so long to get up! Tell me what you thinkand please enjoy! ::)_**

* * *

 _Now remember when I told you that's the last you'll see of me_

~O~

Clint sat in the undescribed Honda Civic as he waited for the light to change. There had been a manhunt for him going on for two days which has it made it really hard to stop as he was recognized now. But, he had managed. He turned as he slowly pulled into the parking lot of a run down hotel.

He had realized that the more run down, the better chance he had at being ignored. Unfortunately, his nearest safehouse was at least another eight hours away, and Clint had been driving for the last ten. So, he was forced to stop in this muggy, rundown, horrible hotel.

Once Clint had gotten in his room (which he picked) he set his bag down so he could check the bed; making sure that it was sleepable in. When he had deemed that it was indeed sleepable,Clint quickly laid down as he slowly closed his eyes letting the exhaustion take over.

The only downside to sleeping… dreaming.

Clint had just come back from a mission as he was getting ready to go on another one. He had disobeyed direct orders from Coulson to just get the information which meant nothing else, but Clint had gone in which in doing so he saved the lives of three men. The only problem was that he had disobeyed direct orders from his commanding officer. Something that was not looked upon to kindly.

He was unpacking his bag when his handler came in. The one and only, Phil Coulson.

"What the hell was that Barton?!" He snapped his voice sharp. "I gave you a direct order which you went and disobeyed it? You know better than that!"

"With all do respect sir," He said, not even looking up from his unpacking just to be repacking. "I saved the lives of three men today without failing the mission. I know what I was doing, even without you feeding me information through the comms. I knew what I was supposed to do which it was an honest opportunity which also included that fact it saved three men's lives. I don't regret my actions sir."

Coulson looked at him for a moment. He was tired which made him done with anything he had to deal with at the moment, and he really just wanted to go down the hall one door to his bunk to just fall asleep. Coulson couldn't do that now he had to deal with Barton, and the mound of paperwork that this incident had put on his desk. Not to mention the bribing to get Clint to not lose his job. "Barton," He said. "You were given a direct order. You are to follow those, no matter what." He turned away, looking back at the door. "You know, sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you."

As soon as he said it he regretted it.

Barton had been left behind, abandoned, used, and beaten to many times in his short twenty two years. What Phil had just said conveyed that Phil didn't want him either. Something that Phil would regret the rest of his life.

"Barton, I didn't mean that."

But it was to late, Clint's mask was in place, as he had finished packing. Unfortunately this mission required him to just help out a team, and Phil would not be going.

He quickly followed him out into the hallway, keeping pace with him. "Barton wait!"

Clint whirled around, anger clear on his face. "No Coulson."He said, his voice sharp as a knife. "I will not wait. Why would I wait!? You want nothing to do with me, remember? I don't have to wait for you. Besides, you aren't even on this mission. Go get your beauty sleep." He turned and started walking away. "And don't worry," He called over his shoulder. You'll never have to see me again. I'll put in my resignation."

And with that, he disappeared into the crowed.

It was two weeks later that he heard the news. Agent Clint Barton had been officially declared killed in action.

When he first heard it, he was in shock, unable to do anything. But then it all set in, and he quickly went to his bunk room. And there, he cried.

~O~

 _Remember when I broke you down to tears_

~O~

He had ended up coming back three days later, much to everyone's surprise. He had ended up getting captured, but he had gotten away, and hightailed it to the nearest S.H.I.E.L.D. Base.

Later him and Phil had made up, but it was a rough time in their friendship.

Clint woke up barely four hours later, his pillow wet, and he moved on. Leaving the hotel, and driving on to wherever he could.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Hey! Back with another inatallment! Sorry it took so long to get up, I started my Freshmen year if highschool a little while ago so everything has been INSANE! Thanks for aticking with me! :) Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _I know I took the path that you would never want for me_

~O~

As Clint pulled into the parking spot, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. He had been looking for a place to eat for the last two hours, and he was really hungry. So, when he saw the sign for the Pub and Bar, he took it. Maybe he could even get a hotel by there and just drown out his memories that keeped seeming to surface. Just last night he had had one about the first time him and Natasha had kissed. That had been one of the best nights of his life.

He had also had the few random ones, and of course the nightmares. In his line of work those would never go away. No matter how much he ran.

He had officially been on the run for about a week now, and the manhunt had been going on for a good five days. The good thing was that he was in a place where nobody really cared. He was good at finding those places it seemed.

As he got his table and sat down in the far corner facing the door, he couldn't help thinking of the times when the three of them came to dingy bars so that they could get a minute of peace. All the times where Natasha and him snuck off base, going against orders, just to go and get a drink or a decent meal. Or the times before Natasha when Phil and him had had a bad mission, and they would come and drown themselves in drinks. _Well,_ Clint thought, _at least I would do it. Poor Coulson would have haul my butt back to base and deal with me in the morning when I had a hangover._

The waiter came over, and he ordered his drink and a hamburger with fries. Nothing too fancy, but it would keep him running for another good day or so incase he couldn't stop. When his drink came, his mind started to wonder, and he cursed himself as his mind went to one particular memory.

He was in an alley, walking away from the scene he had just created. He had just finished his 150th hit, and he was planning on going back to the hotel that he was staying at, and getting out the bottle of Vodka he had. He didn't feel that he could do anything else, do any better. He was a killer. A stoned cold killer, and he didn't care. _**He didn't.**_

He was about halfway through the alley when a man in a suite stepped in front of him. He look honestly like an accountant.

"Clint Barton?" The man asked in a distinctly American accent.

Clint shook his head. "You've got the wrong man." He said, putting on as thick of an accent he could manage.

" You may have not used that name in in over a year, but we both know that's not true Barton." The accountant guy replied. "Now, just come with me and we can have a chat."

Clint shook his head and let out a breathy laugh. He had been up for five days straight between staking his target, negotiating, and nightmares. He was exhausted and running on fumes; all he wanted to do was get back to the hotel. "I don't think that's going to happen."

The guy had the nerve to smile. "It wasn't a request. Please come peacefully."

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

"I want to give you a chance."

"A chance at what?" Clint retorted.

"A chance at a new life."

Clint snorted. He knew he was being joked with now, and he really needed to get out of the situation. "Look, since you know about me, you must know what I do for a living. So I would suggest moving out of my way before someone gets hurt."

The guy just smiled. "Come on Barton."

As he recalled, after getting his but handed to him by the old man, he had agreed to join S.H.I.E.L.D.. He was hostile and untrusting of even Coulson for almost 9 months. And only then did he start to trust Coulson.

He learned that even if Coulson was exhausted, he would stay up with Clint to help him get through his nightmares and guilt, and even trauma.

He gave him a lot of bull crap stuff, but for some reason, the man wouldn't leave his side. That's when he realized that no matter what he gave him, Coulson would always be there for him.

Or so he thought.

~O~

 _I gave you hell through all the years_


End file.
